


Draco Decides to go it Alone

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And yet NOT lying, Disguise, Keeping an important secret, Lying and trickery, Mpreg, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, it's complicated lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 05:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: When Draco realized that he's not quite happy with his life, he thinks long and hard about what will make him happy and comes to the conclusion that he needs to have a baby. All on his own,





	Draco Decides to go it Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so, because I like to try to write different things and challenge myself, the challenge for this fic was to NOT end in Drarry. GASP! I know... I ship them so hard this is nearly unthinkable, but that's what makes it a challenge.  
> Thus WARNING! Harry is married to Ginny and there is NO Ginny bashing.  
> Also, WARNING! Draco tricks Harry into fathering his baby, so if that will trigger you, please read with caution.   
> Enjoy! ^_^

 

Draco had a plan. It was a desperate, sneaky, somewhat immoral plan. See, the problem was that when all was said and done, he just wasn't happy. He'd thought a LOT about what would make him happy, and come to a shocking conclusion.

He was born to a wealthy family and had so much money that honestly, he couldn't complain about anything to do with finances. Thus earning money to buy or do something wouldn't make him happy. And actually, he had a job he loved, working for Gringott's as an investor for their clients. Most days, this was almost enough. It fulfilled him. About 80 percent of the way to happiness. His job was to literally play with money, which was something he loved more than almost anything, so it actually surprised him to realize that money wasn't enough to make him happy.

For _years_ , his parents had begged him to get married and have a child. They assured him that _that_ was what he was missing. Love. A family of his own. They bluntly told him that he was _lonely_ and that once he filled his life with people, he'd be so much happier.

Hell! As they pointed out, even  _they_ had each other, and so, were quietly content with life. Perhaps not as happy as they might have been if life had gone differently for them. That said, Draco was dead certain they wouldn't have been truly happy had the Dark Lord lived and succeeded in taking over the world. Even  _IF_ they'd stayed on his good side and been honored as the highest rank of his inner circle.

Anyway, Draco had given it a lot of thought over the years. When his 23 rd birthday arrived, he was still of the opinion that his parents didn't know  _what_ they were talking about. When his 24 th birthday arrived, he was willing to admit that maybe, just  _maybe_ they might have a point. Now – as his 25 th birthday was fast approaching – he was not only certain they were right, but that if he didn't have a family of his own soon, he was going to pine to death from loneliness.

And that was the other problem. He had almost  **no** options when it came to falling in love with someone. He was bisexual, and so  _ could _ marry a person of either sex, but he actually preferred going to go to a club to fulfill his kinks when he was in the mood for sex, and so, when he tried dating someone, he wasn't desperate to have sex with them. Instead, he wanted to build a solid foundation for a good marriage. Only... well, he tended to be an absolute arsehole. He didn't even try!

Salazar buggering Slytherin! Even when he was trying to  _ not _ be an arse, his mouth ended up running away with him and... it seemed as if trying to not be an arse turned him into an utter bastard, and a wanker, and a sodding prick, and so, was  _ much _ worse than when he was just being himself.

None of his dates lasted more than an hour...

Which led to his desperate and sneaky plan. He was just going to do it himself! Who needed to fall in love and get married in order to have a child? He certainly didn't! He had a few options to choose from too.

First off, he  _ could _ put an ad in the paper for a surrogate to carry his child. That would actually be the  _ easiest _ way for him to accomplish the goal of obtaining a baby. Plus, it would be legitimately his heir – unlike if he adopted a child, which he had considered. As much as he feels he'd love an adopted child every bit as much, there was the problem of being a single man with no muggle identification. And Merlin help him if he should dare try asking the Ministry for help!

So, surrogate.

_ Except _ , then he ran the very real risk that the woman who carried his child would try to sue for equal custody  _ simply _ so that she could milk Draco for a significant portion of his fortune. Or even if she didn't sue, make it abundantly clear in the first place that she'd only carry the child if he paid her an enormous amount of Galleons. Which... he  _ could _ afford, but that was still no guarantee that when the money ran out, the woman wouldn't come back and continually blackmail him for more with the threat of suing for custody.

No. It might be easier and more pleasant to find a woman willing to carry his child for money, especially if they had a few kinky shags in the process of conception, BUT the risk was far too big.  _ So _ , he was going to try the hardest and most insane option available to him. 

Doing it himself. With a potion. And a witless donor.

The only minor problem with that is that the witless donor needed to be a wizard, preferably a powerful one. He considered asking his friends to donate, but only Blaise seemed willing to consider it. Call him vain. Call him an arse. Call him the worst bastard on the planet, but he wanted his child to at least have a decent chance of inheriting his notable family looks.

So, in order to be able to walk into any place in the wizarding world without being hexed to death  _ and _ flirt with wizards until one of them showed interest in shagging him, he'd have to cast a series of subtle and undetectable but powerful glamours to change his features enough to be unrecognizable.

But still gorgeous. He  _ was _ vain after all.

Taking a deep breath, he downed the potent fertility potion so that it had time to work on his body while he worked on his face. Next, he used his wand to cast the first glamour – intended to change the shape of his face just a little. Sort of fill it out so that it didn't look so sharp and pointy, instead a little softer without looking pudgy.

His hair was next, which didn't need a glamour so much as a temporary dying spell. Biting his lip in concentration, he changed his white blond hair a shade or two at a time until it was a vibrant golden blond. With just those two changes, he'd pass for his own cousin. Familiar looking but different enough to escape malicious attention. He hoped.

To finish off, he decided to change his eye color too. After trying various different shades – including full black, which made him look demonic (not that he was complaining!) – he opted for a bright shade of green. He could only remember meeting one or two people with green eyes in his life, and so, they would give him a unique feature to hopefully attract wanted attention.

His last glamour was to carefully cover his Dark Mark with a tattoo. A long and colorful Chinese dragon. Once he was done changing his appearance, he looked... rather fit actually.

Satisfied, he decided to start at the Leaky and work his way through all the different places in the Wizarding World until he found someone attracted to him that was both powerful  _ and _ attractive himself. No need to start off by conceiving a child with someone who might pass on terrible looks. Yeah sure, that was always a possibility – even with quality genes – but no need to invite it on purpose. In fact, to increase his chances of having a platinum blond/e child, he really ought to look for a blond wizard. 

Maybe he should bring a lust potion with him just in case the perfect wizard happened to be utterly straight and in need of a bit of persuasion. Yeah. That would only be prudent, he should think.

Once ready with the lust potion in his pocket, he Apparated to the Leaky. Scanning the room looking for someone tall and blond and rather handsome, he quickly realized that the Leaky had a lot of  _ older _ wizards that definitely didn't interest him.

Plus what seemed to be every Gryffindor of his year, and then some. This puzzled Draco, so he decided to simply go to the bar and order a single glass of wine to drink as he decided which place to try next. He didn't notice until it was too late...

“Sod off Malf – OH! Sorry, I thought you were someone else at first,” Harry Potter said as he turned to look at Draco.

“Erm... No problem,” he murmured, forcing himself to pay attention to the bar tender. “A glass of Krug Rosé – if you have it.”

“Sure thing,” the elderly bartender muttered before pouring Draco a glass of pink wine that definitely _wasn't_ what he asked for. With a sigh, he drank it anyway, tossing his payment on the bar but no tip.

“Why'd you think that was Malfoy, Harry?”

“Not entirely sure, Gin. I had that prickling up my spine that I only get when he's around,” Harry explained, intriguing Draco.

The weaselette tried to be subtle as she leaned around Harry to get a good look at Draco, but he could feel her probing stare. He pretended that he was too focused on his wine to notice or hear anything.

“I suppose he does sort of look like Malfoy, only... softer somehow. Like a cousin or something,” she decided after looking her fill.

Draco was starting to get annoyed and wondered why they were sitting at the bar rather than with the rest of the Gryffindors.

“Also, I think I assumed that it would be just my luck that we came here tonight to relax and pull an interesting lover, only to have him show up and start a duel or something,” Harry informed her with a shrug.

The weaselette snorted into her lager. “That  _ would _ be just your luck! Although admit it, you'd be harder than Arithmancy by the end of the duel!”

Harry let out a rich laugh that did something funny to Draco's insides. “I suppose I would!”

“What about _him_ ,” the weaselette asked in a whisper. “Otherwise we should probably move on to a different place. Perhaps one with a younger crowd in general.”

It was Harry's turn to snort. “If we did that, it'd be just my luck that they'd all be underage!” He then turned his head to look at Draco appraisingly. “And actually... oi, I didn't know pink wine existed. Is that a poncy pureblood thing, or are you just a wine connoisseur?”

“Who said I was a pureblood?” Draco asked softly, not sure if he should speak at all and give away who he actually was with his voice.

“You're too pretty not to be,” Harry stated with a grin.

It was Draco's turn to turn – slowly – and give Harry an appraising look. “I am, am I? You obviously have good taste. Perhaps... What sort of wine do you drink?”

Harry waved a hand dismissively. “I actually prefer to drink craft beers and pale ales. That said, if I do have to drink wine, I'm not sure what kind it is that I like, but I'm told that unless it's at least 200 dollars a bottle, I wrinkle my nose and basically pretend to sip on it until I can abandon or vanish it. I have no idea why price makes it taste better, since I'm not a snob or anything.”

Draco felt a small smile twist his lips. “It's because a higher price tag tends to indicate a better quality. Better ingredients to begin with and a longer aging process. It the  _ aging _ that makes even a mediocre wine taste good. Perhaps not as good as a wine that was good to begin with, but palatable at the very least. Unless it goes off.” He shrugged.

Harry was still looking at him approvingly. Suddenly, he got an interesting gleam in his eyes. “So, you must have heard what we were talking about. Interested?”

Draco sat back a bit on the tall barstool. He studied first Harry and then the weaselette. “Perhaps I might need you to actually explain what it is your offering.”

Harry gestured back and forth between himself and the weaselette. “My wife and I are in the mood for something different tonight. If you come home with us, I can offer you a bottle of Blackberry wine made by my godfather's family at least a hundred years ago. It's one of the few wines I actually like, for some reason.”

“Quality...” Draco murmured, knowing from his own experience that his mother's family actually _did_ like to make wine from blackberries, and that the wine tended to be excellent no matter the vintage. Too bad everyone in the family who knew the recipe had died. Except possibly his mother, but she refused to tell him if she knew it. He stroked his chin in thought. Very unexpectedly, he had the most powerful and prestigious wizard in the world offering to be a witless donor. “Alright, but only on a few conditions.”

“Such as?” Harry asked with interest.

“Condition number one: We perform spells on each other to ensure that we're all clean and in good health before we begin anything.”

“Agreed,” husband and wife murmured in unison.

“Condition number two: I bottom at least once. It's what _I_ came looking for tonight.”

Harry looked like he couldn't help but grin at that. “Alright, sounds good – if you agree to the same condition.”

Draco shrugged. “I don't mind. Last condition:  _If_ I do anything with your wife, it's erm...” he gestured awkwardly as he didn't want to say it crassly but didn't quite know a polite euphemism for it. “Back door only,” he settled on. “That way, I don't have to worry about a protection spell or anti-pregnancy potion failing, and provided that we're all clean,  _you_ won't have to worry about needing any sort of protection spells either.” He sincerely hoped that the fact that protection spells often dulled the sensation of penetration a bit – that Harry would agree to not use one. Draco didn't think that it would matter, the potion  _should_ make him so fertile that it overrode protection spells, but why do anything that might make the night a wasted effort?

Harry looked to his wife. She thought this over in silence for a moment, then nodded. “Actually, that sort of takes a load off my mind. I was worried about the spells failing. We  _did_ have that happen once already, after all,” she said with a laugh.

Draco supposed that this must be referring to the son they had who must be at least a year or two old by now. At least according to the Daily Prophet.

“Besides, I was sort of hoping to be in the middle of a sandwich, so it just works out for the best, really.”

Harry grinned a bit stupidly and kissed her. “Alright then!”

Oh boy! Draco suddenly felt like he had bitten off more than he could chew! He cleared his throat a bit nervously and downed the rest of the wine in his glass.

“Come on,” Harry invited with a genuinely carefree smile. The bastard!

As Draco stood up, he realized that they were surrounded by a ward that had made it impossible for anyone not sitting directly at the bar – and the bar tender – to hear their conversation. He supposed that it was only prudent as the precious Chosen One was probably stalked by reporters eager to tell all their readers that their Golden Boy and his wife were slags who went out pulling lovers as a team.

Draco bit his lip in thought as he followed them over to the Apparation point. Hmm... his luck normally wasn't this good. Normally, despite the most well laid plans, he usually had something go amiss by now. He could usually salvage his plans and carry on, but still. To not only have his mission half accomplished already, but to have _Harry Potter_ about to unwittingly get him up the duff... it was not only phenomenal luck, but icing on the cake!

Just when they reached the Apparation point, Harry stopped and frowned at Draco. “You didn't react like everyone else, but you can't  _possibly_ not recognize me. Are you planning to report every salacious detail to the Prophet when we're done?”

Draco shook his head. “I'll take an unbreakable vow if you want, but honestly, I didn't care about that.” He noticed that he lit up white after saying that.

Harry sighed in relief, obviously having cast a temporary lie detection spell when Draco wasn't looking. Nodding in acceptance, he held his hand out for Draco to take. “I actually have to bring you inside the wards, otherwise, you'll never get in.”

Draco nodded in understanding. He only hesitated for a split second before taking Harry's hand. A moment later, the three of them were in a place that Draco very vaguely recognized as the Black property, Grimmauld Place.

“Accio wine!” Harry cried out, pointing his wand in what was most likely the direction of the wine cellar. A bottle flew into his hand about ten seconds later. He handed it to Draco. “Here, as promised.”

Draco inspected it warily, only to find that it was not spiked with anything  _and_ an excellent vintage. “Nice... Thank you.”

Harry conjured a trio of wine glasses. “Open it and we'll all have a glass to help us relax and get into the mood.”

“Alright,” Draco agreed mildly, speaking softly as he had been all night in order to make his voice just different enough to not be immediately recognizable. He opened the bottle and poured a good measure into each glass.

As she drank, Ginny wandered over to the wizarding wireless and turned on a station playing some decent music to dance to. Harry grinned and held out his hand. Draco studied it warily.

“Care to dance? I assure you that despite the rumors that I'm terrible at it, I've taken lessons enough to get through a basic dance without stepping on your toes.”

Draco bit back an acerbic retort about having seen his dancing skills in Fourth Year and  _still_ shuddering in horror. Instead, he took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. To his surprise, Harry actually  _was_ a decent dancer. The three of them took turns dancing with each other until the bottle of wine was gone – most of it consumed by Draco – and they'd gotten rather friendly and amorous. Only pausing long enough to cast the responsible spells to check for health and safety.

Draco could not  _believe_ that he was being kissed by Harry... and then kissing his wife too! Merlin! It was actually a bit weird, but now someone was groping his arse and he was moaning from the pleasure. It was true that he was bisexual and so had lovers of both genders – usually as a Dom – but it was also true that he positively  _loved_ having his arse played with. Whether it was a simple massage or a full on rim job, he couldn't get enough. He'd turn into a begging slag if he wasn't careful!

They'd arrived in a sort of drawing room – as far as Draco could tell – but now they pulled him toward a room off to the side. It was a bedroom that was fully prepared and waiting for a decadent night, and Draco was more than half certain that it wasn't their actual bedroom. Which made a bit of sense when he thought about it. It was probably a playroom so they could keep this aspect of their lives separate from the normal day to day marriage bed.

The three of them helped each other strip off. Draco somehow got naked first but didn't mind as it meant that Harry kissed a path down his spine toward his arse as he finished helping Ginny (he supposed he could call her by name in his head at this point) remove her clothes. They snogged rather heavily as Ginny lazily stroked his long, thin, and most definitely hard shaft.

Meanwhile, Harry was taking an experimental taste of Draco's tight pucker, pushing him forward slighty into an angle, which just made it easier for Ginny – who was shorter than Draco – to snog him senseless.

Huh! If Draco had been betting on this sort of thing, he probably would have lost a fortune! Never in his dreams had he thought that goody two-shoes Potter and his wife were such sexual deviants! And he meant that in a good way. He himself was probably considered a sexual deviant, so he definitely did  _not_ have room to judge.

A groan of sheer bliss escaped him when Harry's tongue breached his tight ring of muscles. The tongue was soon replaced by a few fingers. Draco sort of whimpered and pushed his arse into it encouragingly.

“So tight!” Harry pronounced. “Been a while since you bottomed?”

The answer to that was complicated. As much as Draco loved to have his arse played with and rimmed and ordered his subs to do so, most of them preferred to bottom, and so  _Draco_ bottoming was a lot more rare than he liked. He summed this up with: “Yeah... A couple of months.”

Harry nodded and got back to work with a single-minded focus that was so intense that Draco felt a bit awed by it. Knowing that Draco would probably need something to lean on and brace his hands against as Harry pushed him into more of an angle, Ginny dropped into a cross-legged sitting position so that she could give Draco a blowjob. He gasped out in surprise, his hands gripping her shoulders almost hard enough to bruise.

Deep down, the perverse imp inside him simply  _loved_ that he had  _the Harry Potter_ and his  _wife_ pleasing him with their mouths. He gave serious consideration to – once he had accomplished his mission of having Potter get him up the duff – actually saying something that only  _he_ would say, just to tip them off as to  _who_ they were actually buggering like an emotionless toy. And quite eagerly too!

For now, he simply planned to enjoy their enthusiastic attention.

Rather abruptly, Harry decided that Draco was ready to be buggered. He pulled back, yanked Draco out of Ginny's mouth, and tossed him on the enormous bed. Draco wasn't quite sure how to react; on the one hand, he was enjoying the manhandling. On the other,  _he_ was usually the one doing the manhandling. He almost felt like he should protest out of sheer habit or something. Instead, he took a deep breath and relaxed into the unique experience.

Ginny jumped onto the bed and positioned herself so that Harry could roughly drape Draco over her.

“Well now,” he drawled in amusement. “This progressed rather quicker than expected.

Grinning, Ginny reached between her legs and pulled a rather large plug from her arse. “I've been waiting for this for  _hours_ !”

Harry gave her a wry smile. “I didn't know you'd done that.”

She shrugged. “Aside from hoping for being in the middle of a sandwich, I do actually like it when I'm plugged during regular sex, so I figured that if nothing else, I'd have some fun.”

“True,” Harry admitted with a nod. He then bit the back of Draco's shoulder. “Interesting tattoo. An Antipodean Opaleye?”

Draco nodded. He could feel Harry watching the dragon fly around for a few second before Harry apparently returned his attention to Draco's arse, as indicated by a tender caress.

“Are you allergic to any oils?” Harry asked unexpectedly.

“No,” Draco answered, starting to feel just a tiny bit awkward between them while nothing was happening. Yet.

“Good,” Harry stated. “Ginny is sensitive to most lubes, so we use an organic oil instead. Here...” He handed Draco a bottle that was only about half full. “But at least it smells like cinnamon and oranges and has a lovely mild tingle. Go ahead and oil up and slip right on into her.”

Ginny had the fingers of one hand probing herself as if literally pointing out where she wanted him.

“Alright then,” Draco murmured, seeing no reason to refuse. He did as instructed, moaning a little as he discovered that she was well prepared and easy to slid into. She felt really good, which he had to thrust in and out of her several times to verify thoroughly. “So good,” he whispered, mostly out of habit as a Dom who always praised his Subs for good behavior. Only the fact that they were all muggles had made him completely dismiss them as an option for this.

Once it was apparent that Draco had no problems – such as needing to wait for Ginny to open up and accept him fully – Harry decided that it was time for him to do what he was  _aching_ to do. Bury himself deep inside a glorious new arse. He pressed his thick shaft to Draco's hole, holding still with a steady pressure while Draco actually pushed back onto him and opened slowly.

It was sort of strange to divide his attention in two; half on the nice feeling of being inside Ginny, and the other half on buggering himself onto a new shaft that felt bigger than the last one he'd had inside him. Not  _massive_ like Blaise, but big enough to be cautious about. Soon enough – with Harry pressing a bit more every few seconds – Draco managed to fully accept the shaft inside him. He exhaled in relief now that the initial burn and pain were fading and being replaced by an intense pleasure that nearly took his breath away.

For a gloriously long time, Draco thoroughly enjoyed being in the middle of an MMF sandwich. But then, almost suddenly after having built up for so long, he was getting  _really_ close. His moans got louder and his fingers dug into Ginny's hips as he prepared to pump her full. However, at the same time, he was getting  _so tight_ (according to Harry's repeated moans) that Harry ended up gripping  _his_ hips in a nearly brutal grasp and pounding into him mercilessly for about half a minute.

Draco gasped and held his breath to prevent a squeal as his orgasm got  _oh so close_ . Suddenly, he was being pumped full of fluid so hot that it almost burned. When Draco realized that  _this_ was exactly what he wanted, he was so happy that something unexpected happened... His orgasm evaporated rather abruptly.

Weird...

Ginny, understanding that Harry had gone off but that Draco hadn't, smirked at her husband. “Lucky for you that you took a three shot potion!”

“Three shot potion?” Draco asked in confusion.

Harry chuckled, sounding sheepish. “It's a potion that allows the drinker to remain hard after orgasm without the need to stop and recover until he's experienced a total of three orgasms.”

Draco was  _definitely_ intrigued. “Where do you buy this potion, and do you have another bottle on hand?”

Both Harry and Ginny laughed, finding this response so expected that it was funny.

“Sorry, it was the last one I had, but I buy it at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes – it's part of the special back room, adults only, area of the shop,” Harry explained.

“Ah. I didn't know that area existed,” Draco murmured in enlightenment.

Ginny was still grinning. “Anyway, that means that you get to be inside me while our guest here buggers you like you want. And if  _he's_ able to when he's done – even if we need to take a break – I get to be in the middle!”

Harry chuckled huskily and leaned around Draco to kiss her. “I'm looking forward to all of it.”

Frankly, Draco was rather glad they were taking a small break to let him recover just a tiny bit right now. He had been so close that even with losing his orgasm inexplicably, he didn't think he'd last long at all once he was inside the admittedly firm and glorious Chosen Arse.

This was going to be his favorite memory for  _years_ to come! It was definitely going in his Pensieve.

It took them about a minute to switch positions. Then Draco patiently waited as Harry oiled up his shaft and slid inside his wife's vagina. Obviously, they didn't need to worry as much about what would happen if she got pregnant. It secretly amused Draco to think about the possibility that Harry might impregnate them  _both_ tonight.

Apparently, the key to making Draco's plans work out in his favor without anything going wrong was to invoke Harry's phenomenal luck. Strangely, Draco suddenly wished that he  _wouldn't_ get pregnant tonight so that he'd have an excuse to do exactly this all over again. As soon as possible.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Draco realized that Harry had paused and patted his arse invitingly. “Mmm...” Draco couldn't help but moan, caressing said arse almost lovingly. “So fit...”

“Thank you,” Harry said with a soft laugh and a flirty grin. “You too.”

With two fingers, Draco discovered that Harry had cast all the necessary quick prep spells so that they could skip straight to the main event. “Mmm...” Draco moaned again, more than happy to press his newly scourgified and re-oiled shaft to that hole and ease his way in.

_Fuck!_ This felt better than anything he could remember in a long time! Best of all, it was now  _Harry_ buggering himself back and forth between lovers, so Draco simply had to hold onto his hips and remain forward enough that Harry didn't accidentally slip off him and make them ram into each other painfully.

_Merlin!_ The bliss! The  _bliss_ !!! Draco quickly lost all track of the many embarrassing noises coming out of his mouth. He might even have been babbling something horrifyingly undignified such as: “Fuck, oh fuck, fucking fucking fuck, YES!”

At some point, he found the  _exact_ rhythm Harry was using to thrust into Ginny and matched it so that it was like a powerful double hit ramming into her. She obviously loved it as she started babbling and squealing. Draco felt his orgasm rushing at him like the Hogwarts Express.  _Especially_ once Harry started moaning almost helplessly and getting  _even tighter_ on Draco's shaft. If one was judging based on their cries alone, one might think that their mutual orgasms lasted for nearly an entire minute – and perhaps it did for Ginny – but all Draco knew was that he felt so, well,  _orgasmic_ as he pumped Harry full that the world went utterly white and he actually almost passed out.

They collapsed into a well sated pile, Ginny's plans to go again definitely on hold for a nap at the very least. Except that Harry couldn't go limp yet because of the potion he'd taken, so he grabbed Draco and rolled him onto his stomach. He then shoved a couple of pillows under Draco's hips to elevate him and then wasted no time sliding back home. He was only able to do so as easily as he did because Draco was still stretched and lubricated from the first round.

He yawned sleepily, grabbing another pillow to cuddle up to. “Alright, I won't protest you shagging me as much as that potion'll let you – so long as you don't get offended if I should happen to pass out from sheer exhaustion!”

Harry laughed. “I don't mind at all!” He moaned and groaned rather happily as he pounded into Draco so enthusiastically that Draco really had to wonder where he was getting all that energy. He simply drifted on a cloud of bliss as he otherwise relaxed and let this wonderfully hard and demanding shag happen at whatever pace Harry liked.

To no surprise, Ginny was actually passed out. This might actually explain why Harry chose Draco over her – even flipping her over. Through mostly closed and rather sleepy eyes, Draco watched her breathe, still panting just a little and sounding thoroughly content with life at the moment. Even in her sleep, she murmured her husband's name and reached out a hand so that it was resting on his hand – that he was bracing himself with as he pounded Draco into the bed.

_Hmm..._ Draco thought.  _Perhaps my parents are right about this part too. MAYBE it really is worth looking for a relationship. For a person to live with and share things with – even extra lovers. Basically, a best friend who's always there and has copious amounts of sex with me._

By the time Harry actually reached his third climax, Draco had astonishingly recovered and was nearing his second one. He buried his face into the pillow and screamed as it hit him. Harry roared like a lion, pumping Draco full all over again, before collapsing on top of him.

He had no idea how he did it, but Draco resisted passing out. He waited long enough for Harry to make the swift journey into unconsciousness, then he pushed Harry off him and climbed out of bed. He winced with every step. His arse was  _sore_ , but it had been  _more_ than worth it, and Draco sincerely wished that he could come back at least once a week, but that was severely unlikely. Nonverbally, he summoned up all his belongings and carried them as he left the room so that he could Apparate away without waking them.

The next morning, he was startled to look in the mirror and see his disguise still in place. True, the hair and eye color spells were more or less permanent unless he changed them back, but the glamour spells should have worn off when he fell asleep, so it was unexpected to see his face look just a little softer than usual. With an appraising smile, he had to wonder if he'd gain enough weight for his face to  _actually_ fill out once he grew fat with child.

_If_ it worked. Which he fervently prayed that it did.

 

***

 

For the next two months, Draco  _astonishingly_ forgot the reason he'd shagged the Potters. He was so busy at work that he didn't have time to think about anything else. Although, whenever he did have five seconds to spare, Harry tended to pop up in his thoughts almost without fail. Which was why he was startled enough to yelp out loud when that distinctive voice said his name.

“Hey Malfoy, do you have a minute?”

Draco looked up from the paperwork sprawled all over his desk that he was comparing before making a decision. “No. Go away Potter.”

“This will seriously only take a minute,” Harry said, blatantly ignoring the command. “Do you have a cousin about our age?”

“No~~t that I _know_ of...” Draco drawled slowly, puzzled until he remembered that Harry and his wife had thought that Draco looked like his own cousin, which was actually what he'd thought when he glamoured himself.

“Bugger! I should have asked his name,” Harry muttered to himself as he turned to walk away. “Thanks anyway, Malfoy, and I hope you have a good day – despite it looking like you'd quite like to murder whatever it is you're working on.”

Draco snorted a soft laugh. “Despite appearances, I'm having fun with this account. I suppose that looking like I'd quite like to murder something is just my natural state by now.”

Harry looked tempted to laugh. “Oh. Well... Good job on abstaining then.”

Draco actually did laugh at that. “Who said anything about me abstaining?” He  _knew_ what Harry meant but couldn't help turning it into an innuendo anyway.

That was apparently the right thing to make Harry laugh after all. He leaned against the door frame and relaxed just slightly. “I know that this is probably a long shot in the dark through a tornado, but... Do you happen to know  _anyone_ who looks like they could be your cousin? He's the same height and weight as you with brighter, more golden hair and green eyes. And a... erm...  _softer_ face...”

Draco bit his lip in surprise. He hadn't thought that Harry was  _quite_ that observant. Slowly, he shook his head. “No one. Why?”

Harry sighed in defeat. “No reason, just... I was hoping to track him down for a chat.”

“Is he a suspect, Auror Potter?” Draco asked a bit coldly.

Harry shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

Draco shrugged. “He's probably a muggle or something. After all, if he was  _our age_ and from Britain, he'd almost certainly have gone to school with us. So... either he's a muggle – and good luck finding him – or he's actually from America or something. Again, good luck finding him. Now will you kindly bugger off?”

But Harry was stroking his chin in thought. “Hmm...” After a moment of it looking like there were actual wheels turning in Harry's head, he straightened up and strode away.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later that it occurred to Draco to wonder if his mission that led to shagging Harry had actually succeeded. Practically the moment he thought this, his stomach churned abruptly and he had to lean over and grab the rubbish bin before he spewed a mess all over everything.

Groaning miserably and resting his forehead on his desk when he was done, he was suddenly very afraid to learn the answer to that question.

 

A week later, he got fed up with vomiting at random with none of his anti nausea potions helping for longer than a half an hour. So, he made an appointment and went into St. Mungo's to be seen. To his smug pride, the Head of the Obstetrics department herself handled his appointment.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Healer Rowe and as I understand it, you're here to confirm a possible wizard pregnancy.”

Draco nodded. “Yes. I'm almost certain I am, but... maybe it's just nerves or something from convincing myself that I must be.”

With an understanding smile and nod, Healer Rowe held up her wand and cast a pregnancy test spell. “Mmm... well, that confirms it,” she murmured when he lit up nearly golden yellow. “Shall I take a peek inside and see how things are doing in there?”

“Yes. Please,” Draco said, finding that maybe he _could_ be civil when it was really important to him.

Healer Rowe cast a diagnostic spell followed by a holographic projection spell. As she looked the image over, she hummed softly, then asked. “Can you tell me the necessary details?”

Draco nodded. “Yes... I, erm, well, I took a fertility potion a little over two months ago now in the hopes that,” he gestured to the projection. “That.”

“I see, and what about the other father?”

Draco stroked his chin in thought before deciding to be as honest as he could without telling her  _too_ much information. “I... I decided that since I didn't have anyone, I'd go have a one off with a stranger.”

“Oh... Well, that's basically the same as a muggle woman using a sperm bank, I should think – aside from the sticky _consent_ issues – but in any case, the baby is healthy. Well formed and on track for how long you say you've been pregnant. I'll just take a few measurements and see...” she trailed off to hum again. “Looks like you're due on January 7 th.”

Draco didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He leaned over in his chair, rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. In almost exactly three weeks, he would turn 25 and he'd  _actually_ managed to accomplish his goal of getting pregnant with a child by then.

“Alright there, Mr. Malfoy?” Rowe asked in concern.

Draco was horrified to find a few tears leaking from his eyes when he looked up at her. “I didn't believe that it would really happen...”

She handed him a tissue and rubbed his back. “I daresay that it is rather a miracle, even when it happens to a witch. I can only imagine that for a wizard – who doesn't normally have the right body parts – it does probably feel a bit like a fantasy, hmm?”

Draco nodded in agreement.

“But I assure you that it is quite real. I can't tell if baby is a boy or a girl yet as it's still too tiny and not one gender or the other yet, but I _definitely_ see a baby inside you. I'm going to prescribe you a lot of potions, Mr. Malfoy. Far more than a witch would have to take. I trust that you can pick them up from the apothecary yourself?”

Draco nodded, feeling a bit numb at this point. Thank  _Merlin_ he'd stopped crying right away! He took the paper with the prescriptions on it with a lightly shaky hand.

“So, as much as I'd love nothing more than to tell you everything you'll need to know for this pregnancy today, I find it helps when the parent isn't too shellshocked to listen. Therefore, instead, I'll send you home with the best – and frankly only – book on wizard pregnancy. Read it and write down _all_ of your questions. We'll make an appointment to discuss them whenever you are ready, but other than that, this early in the pregnancy, I really only need to see you once a month. So, if you feel well enough, you can wait to ask your questions until then and have a check up at the same time, or you can come back tomorrow if you find you're too anxious to wait a moment longer.”

Draco smiled wanly at that. “Alright...” he took the book from her and tucked the prescription paper in it.

“Just make sure you take those potions _as prescribed_ to insure that baby continues to grow healthy and on track, yeah?”

“Of course,” Draco murmured. He stood and straightened his appearance for a few seconds. “Thank you, Healer Rowe. I'll be back once I've read through this.”

She nodded in acceptance.

He opened the door to find a Mediwitch escorting a couple to the exam room next to his.

“Malfoy?!” Harry blurted out in confusion. 

Draco looked down, tensing up as if preparing to win a duel right here and now. Rowe was sharp enough to notice this instantly and smiled brightly as she patted Draco on the back.

“Thank you again for explaining my investment options to me, Mr. Malfoy. I've absolutely _no_ head for finance! Sadly...”

Draco nodded his head at her. “You're welcome. I'll just be on my way now.”

With a cheery grin, Rowe turned to the Potters. “I'll be with you in just a few moments. I just need to pop over to my desk and grab your file.”

“Of course,” Ginny murmured, still looking faintly puzzled as she watched Draco rush out of the _obstetrics_ ward.

As for Harry, he wasn't puzzled so much as concerned. Draco had looked markedly ill compared to the last time he'd seen him, just a week ago. He couldn't  _imagine_ a sickness that would bring the man to this ward, but it was entirely possibly that Rowe was their family doctor and simply examined him in this ward rather than travel to a different one that matched his illness. Biting his lip in thought, he followed his wife into the other exam room that was dedicated to Healer's Rowe's patients.

 

***

 

By his birthday, Draco's nausea had largely cleared up. However, he was still a little too queasy to eat much of the excellent dinner his mother had ordered the elves to prepare for him. His parents watched him in concern. He'd been quiet and withdraw for weeks now and they were more than a little worried.

“Draco?” His mother asked softly, gaining his attention.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response as he looked up at her.

“What's wrong?” She pressed.

He shook his head. “Nothing's  _wrong_ ,” he denied. “I'm just not feeling the best. My stomach's been off for ages now and I was hoping to feel better by today.”

“Anything serious?” Lucius asked with a light frown. “Do you need to see a Healer?”

Draco shook his head again, pushing his food around his plate with his fork. “No. She assures me that I am fine and healthy and that the nausea and vomiting will pass soon enough. Of course, then I get to look forward to weight gain and swollen ankles and indigestion and my body aching  _all_ over and –”

Narcissa cut him off with a gasp of understanding. “Are... Are you saying that... That you're  _pregnant_ ?!”

Draco gave her a soft and tender smile. “Surprise! I decided that I wanted to have a baby this year. Well, actually,  _not_ this year as I'm due in January.”

His father was gaping at him in shock. “W... Wha...?  _Why_ ???”

Draco sighed and threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “At this point, I'm not even sure anymore! When I took the potion, I decided that it was the best out of my small handful of options. I, well I don't exactly have an opportunity to  _meet_ people that often, and when I've tried dating in the past, it never ended well. Or progressed. At all. So I figured that I could just have the baby that would be the desired result of a relationship if it lasted long enough to progress to marriage.”

His parents exchanged a worried look. It was Lucius who sort of nodded in understanding.

“Alright. That part is actually understandable enough. You wanted something and decided to go out and get it. What I don't understand is why you didn't simply come to us and ask us to arrange a marriage?”

Draco sighed again. “Well, as for that, I suppose that I didn't want to be trapped in a marriage if it didn't work out, and I know that arranged marriages are generally for life – even if they hate each other.”

This part was trickier for his parents to understand because they didn't think it was possible for a married couple to truly hate one another – arranged or not – once they'd had a baby and made a commitment to raising it well. That said, they were sort of all of the above. They'd chosen each other  _and_ had their parents arrange the match, and while it hadn't been full and deep love at first, they'd genuinely grown to love one another by the time Narcissa turned up pregnant with Draco.

More than anything, they wanted the same for their son.

“Darling,” Narcissa murmured, reaching over and taking his hand – the one fidgeting with the napkin, not the one pushing food around with his fork. “Will you at least let us try? Arranged marriages aren't what you think, especially these days. We simply network with others who follow the same traditions and arrange meetings. There will probably be a lot of people you went to Hogwarts with – ranging from about five years older than you to five younger. You'll meet with them and if you get along, you'll continue to meet with them until you either decide to get married or move on to the next one.”

“I was introduced to at least five witches before I convinced my parents to at least ask the Blacks about a marriage with Narcissa,” Lucius explained. He shrugged. “I knew her from school and thought she had a sensible head on her shoulders.”

Narcissa nodded in agreement. “And I thought he had plenty of ambition and the drive to do important things. It seemed like it would be a good match.” She then laughed a bit derisively. “Besides, the three other wizards  _I_ was introduced to were all brainless idiots with more money than manners or sense. I would have  _died_ in such a match – likely at my own hands. Which means that I had a choice, darling, as will you.”

Draco hummed pensively as he thought this over. “Hmm...  _Maybe._ I'm not going to agree right now because I have too much else on my mind at the moment. But... Maybe.”

Narcissa squeezed his hand supportively. “I'm sure that you think that because you more or less know all your fellow Slytherins from the two or three years above and below you, that you won't actually  _meet_ anyone, and thus this would be a waste of time. But honestly, you probably never really knew those more than a single year above and below you. A witch five years younger than you would be graduated several years now and almost certainly a stranger at this point. Just... think about it.”

“I will,” Draco murmured, smiling warmly at her because he _knew_ that she loved him and wanted what was best for him. 

She smiled at him in return, kissing him on the temple. “So... tell me more about this grandchild of ours you're expecting.”

 

***

 

By the time the end of July was nearing, Draco was feeling a whole lot more content about his life in general. He was no longer nauseous, and actually rather ravenous. He was roughly 18 weeks pregnant out of 40, and so, nearly halfway done. His only real complaint was that he definitely had a bump. It ruined the line of his stomach and  _everything_ he wore!

Thus, he desperately needed to go shopping. Currently, he was wearing a pair of trousers that he had to leave unbuttoned and expand the waist a bit. Not to mention spell to prevent from falling down. His crisp white button down shirt also had to be unbuttoned the last two or three, and the soft and stylish polo shirt he wore over it rode up just enough to show off his bump – as if trying to announce it to the world. He tried his best to keep the stretchy material pulled down so that he looked professional at the very least, but it was a loosing battle. Worst of all was that  _all_ of his robes were too tight now, so he had to leave them hanging open. 

And  _honestly!_ Who  _ever_ thought that it was a good idea to wear a full set of professional clothes under a set of robes  _in the hottest months of summer_ anyway?! With a disgruntled sigh, he pushed away from his desk and decided that it didn't matter if he had a deadline, he  _needed_ to go shopping this instant!

Just when he reached the front entrance to Gringott's, one hand absently held out to push the door open while the other held the file he was studying (having decided to bring it with him to work on  _while_ shopping), the door opened suddenly, making him stumble just a bit into whomever was entering the bank.

“Oh sorr – Malfoy!”

Draco rubbed his head, developing a headache all of a sudden.  _Especially_ since he had dropped his file and didn't relish picking it up – which he'd have to because it had anti summoning charms on it to prevent the sensitive information from being stolen. To his surprise, Harry bent over and picked it up in an automatic way that suggested he did that sort of thing all the time.

As he straightened up, Harry got a good look at Draco's abdomen. Harry was confused because there were actually several reasons that  _could_ explain the small but obvious bump – such as curses and medical conditions – but... He felt like Draco probably would have Apparated straight to St. Mungo's from his office if he'd suddenly been cursed that badly. Yet, he was calmly walking out of the bank.

“ _Potter_ ,” Draco hissed unhappily as he snatched his file back. “This is confidential information and _not_ something you're allowed to see! Hold still so that I can Obliviate you!”

“Relax Malfoy,” Harry ground out, trying to sound at ease himself. “I didn't even look at your buggering file. Erm... Are _you_ okay?”

Draco growled in frustration, understanding instantly what Harry was referring to. “ _Peachy_ . Now kindly get the fuck out of my way!”

With a frown of concern, Harry stepped aside and held the door open for Draco. Then – despite having an actual need to withdraw some money from his vault – his curiosity got the better of him and he followed Draco out of the bank and down the steps.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” Draco snarled at him, stopping to add a fierce glare.

“I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong and if there's anything I can do to fix it,” Harry replied honestly, a bit surprised to realize that it was true. He was actually _concerned_ about his old school rival.

Draco let out a long growling sigh. “Nothing. Is. Wrong.  _Potter_ . I'm simply  _pregnant_ and I need to buy some clothes that actually fit me properly. Happy now? Will you kindly bugger off and leave me the fuck alone?!”

Of the possibilities that Harry had just run through – which was admittedly a short list –  _this_ hadn't even registered in the very back of his mind. “ _WHAT???”_ He cried out incredulously. “That's possible?!?!”

Draco rolled his eyes, sighed, rubbed his head again with the hand not holding his file, turned, and walked away.

Harry knew for certain that it was  _none_ of his business, but he couldn't stop himself from blurting out: “Who's the other father?”

“Like I'm going to tell you because it's _your_ business, Potter,” Draco snorted in amusement, also disgruntled that Harry was still following him.

“Sorry. That was rude. I'm just dying of curiosity is all.”

Draco harrumphed a tiny laugh. “Good, then you'll be gone and the world will have a chance to make you a Martyr too. Saint Potter, patron of lost and hopeless causes and  _anything_ in need of a rescue.”

That actually made Harry chuckle. “And pregnant former Death Eaters who probably would like a chance to shop in peace without those idiots bothering him.” Harry jabbed his thumb over his left shoulder to indicate a group of older wizards who were grumbling petulantly as they watched Draco storm by.

Draco sighed wearily, determined not to acknowledge them in any way. He hoped he'd be able to shake the stubborn Gryffindor dogging him once he got safely to his favorite tailor's shop. Also, it couldn't hurt to try to deter him.

“I'm not an invalid, Potter. I'm perfectly capable of walking by myself. Your insufferable Savior Complex isn't needed here, so you can bugger off.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I know I'm probably being stupid, but I'm an Auror and I'm trained to spot trouble. That group back there definitely looked like trouble brewing.”

Draco suppressed a sigh of frustration and kept walking as fast as he could without running outright.

“And I know you're not an invalid, Malfoy. Ginny made that abundantly clear when she was pregnant with James, and now she's pregnant again. If she thought for a _moment_ that I thought she shouldn't do something just because she's pregnant again, she'd murder me with my own Gryffindor tie.”

Draco stopped to look at him curiously. “Do you know when she's due?”

Harry shrugged. “Sometime near the beginning of January. She could tell you, but I glazed over when the Healer started hurling way too much information at us at once.”

Draco rolled his eyes, a small shiver running up and down his spine. He honestly had to wonder if it really happened the same night, or if it was just before or after but close enough to still be a freakishly alarming coincidence. Purposely shrugging it off, he resumed his walk.

“So...” Harry hesitated, scratching what felt like a tiny insect tickling his cheek away. “Erm...”

Since Draco had finally reached his tailor, he gestured to the door. “I've arrived. I'm safe. I no longer require protection from potential troublemakers. I'll even thank you for your help. Now  _please_ go the fuck away!”

Harry ducked his head a bit sheepishly. “Alright, Malfoy. Erm...”

Draco sighed, over-exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “Why are you so damn curious, Potter? What does it matter to you  _who_ did this to me?”

“Probably mostly because I didn't even know that was _possible_ until you literally _just_ told me. I guess I'm just trying to fill in all the details so that it makes some semblance of sense in my mind.”

Draco couldn't help but let out a tiny, wry laugh. Then he shrugged. “It would never make sense, even if I told you. So, I tell you what, Potter, since you're such a Savior and like to rescue and protect everything, why don't I just say  _you're_ the father and leave you standing here wondering how in the buggering hell  _that_ is possible!” With a smug harrumph, Draco opened the door to the tailor and felt triumphant when Harry did  _not_ follow him.

 

***

 

Harry and Ginny sat at their kitchen table with Ron and Hermione. They were eating simple but delicious roasted vegetables and lamb chops for dinner. James was quiet, for once, too busy eating his own plateful of food to make a fuss – and at two and a half years old, he had the teeth to eat everything they did, especially if it was cut up small enough.

“I'm quite sure that I don't like being pregnant in winter!” Ginny groused.

Hermione was actually about a month farther along – and so due in early December or late November. Which was right around the corner. “Here here! But I think it would probably be worse to be this heavily pregnant in the hottest part of summer.”

Ginny shrugged. She'd actually given birth to James in the spring, so hadn't been heavily pregnant in the summer. “Maybe you're right, but it's not even  _October_ yet and I already feel like I'm going to shiver to death!”

Hermione chuckled. “So cast a warming charm on everything you're wearing.”

“My warming charms never seem to stick, for some reason,” Ginny grumbled.

“That could be because of the pregnancy,” Hermione suggested sagely. “You're magic is being effected by the baby, and so, erratic.”

“Which sucks!” Ginny moaned.

Hermione nodded in sympathy and agreement. “But it could be worse. Imagine if you were a wizard going through this.  _His_ pregnancy is literally fueled by his magic, and so, if he's not careful, he can get dangerously low and even die.”

Ginny growled, in the mood to remain petulant – which in and of itself was the result of her pregnancy hormones. “Yeah,  _so_ ?”

“So I'm just saying is that there's always a bright side if you look for it,” Hermione reminded her.

Ginny rolled her eyes but didn't argue the point.

“So wait,” Harry interjected. “Are you saying that _Malfoy_ could _die_ from being pregnant?”

Hermione sighed, a little bit sorry she'd brought it up and given Harry yet another reason to worry about things he had no business worrying about. “Well, yes. If he forgets to take his magic boosting potions, or if he overdoes it –”

“Or if he just didn't have quite enough magic to begin with,” Ron added around a mouthful of pecan pie.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed. “Basically, if he runs too low on magic, his body will at first try to tap into his life force to save and protect the baby, but if he's too low on that as well, perhaps malnourished, his body will try to abort the baby, and if he doesn't get medical attention as soon as possible, they would both die,” she explained.

“That's... horrifying...” Harry murmured.

“But he was on the cover of the Prophet this morning looking fairly healthy,” Hermione pointed out. “So chances are he's just fine.”

With a curious frown, Harry summoned the paper. Sure enough, Draco was on the front, his picture looking like it couldn't decide if it wanted to run and hide or stay and pose. He did look pretty healthy, and also, a little happier than Harry expected. He read the article.

_Beloved Reporter Rita Skeeter managed to catch former Death Eater Draco Malfoy – who was exonerated of all charges and found to be more or less innocent – today while he was emerging from his work at Gringott's Bank where he's a financial genius and worth talking to if you ever need to invest your money for a nice profit. It's been apparent for a few months now that young Malfoy is shockingly pregnant and not even trying to hide it. Today, he's wearing a very nice and likely expensive outfit that fits him well but clearly doesn't hide his rounded baby bump._

_R.S. Mr. Malfoy, how far along are you?_

_D.M. (sighs a bit impatiently) 27 weeks – I'm due January 7_ _th_ _._

_R.S. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?_

_D.M. (smiles faintly) A boy._

_R.S. How exciting! Have the attacks on you stopped or gotten worse since you started showing?_

_D.M. (looks a bit morose) Well... A little of both. More people seem like they'd quite like to hex me in my sleep, but no one has actually accosted me in public._

_R.S. Do you feel that the strict law regarding murdering a pregnant person – that the murderer is automatically sentenced to a Dementor's Kiss – is responsible for people leaving you alone?_

_D.M. More than likely._

_R.S. Who's the other father? Are there joyous nuptials in the near future?_

_D.M. No. No marriage in my plans. As for the other father, there is none. I decided to do this to myself._

_R.S. (frankly confused) Surely that's not possible. Even for magic!_

_D.M. (chuckles softly) If muggle women can do it to themselves, then why not wizards?_

_R.S. (It took me a moment to figure this out.) So, are you saying that you obtained a donation?_

_D.M. (nods but doesn't say anything)_

_R.S. Oh... Well, that's very brave of you!_

_D.M. (sighs again and rubs his temples) Yes... I feel like someone turned me into a Gryffindor when I wasn't looking._

_R.S. (laughs) The horror!_

_D.M. (also laughs, looking genuinely amused) Horror indeed!_

_R.S. Do you have any plans for after the baby is born?_

_D.M. Yes... I plan to take a leave from my job and simply stay home to bond with him for at least the first year._

_R.S. (smiling and purring just a little) Have you picked out a name yet?_

_D.M. Not just yet, no. But I have a few options in mind._

_R.S. (Shaking his hand and grinning at him.) Thank you so much for speaking with me today. I'm certain my readers will love knowing that you sound like you plan to be a good father._

_D.M. (looking slightly uncomfortable now) Well... I didn't have a bad father growing up. He's actually rather doting and bought me almost everything I ever asked for. But... I think we can all agree that bad choices and mistakes were made. I fully plan to avoid those mistakes and hopefully make completely different ones – such as not knowing quite what to do when my son is old enough to start snogging and I catch him at it and completely overreact._

_R.S. (laughing) Yes! Every parent's worst nightmare!_

_D.M. (looking somber now) Perhaps not_ my _worst..._

_I quickly realized that I had wandered into sensitive territory, but before I could ask after what just might be the juiciest tidbit of the entire interview, he shook his head. I sighed in disappointment and gave him my most brilliant grin._

_R.S. Well, this has been lovely._

_D.M. Yes, it has. Now, if you'll excuse me..._

_And with that, he walked away. Dear readers, I sincerely hope that you are all as excited at this news as I am. It seems that one of the most infamous members of our community plans to do nothing more than stay home and raise his son to be a good person. What say you? Write in and let us know what you think!_

Harry looked up at Hermione with a frown. “While I'll admit that this isn't as bad as most of the ones about me, she still calls him a former Death Eater and infamous. She's subtly increasing the prejudice against him, which is never a good thing, no matter  _who_ it's about.”

Hermione simply shook her head and shrugged, not able to fix it.

Harry tossed the paper aside. “So... he did this to himself...” he stroked his chin in thought for a moment before laughing. “When I first found out he was pregnant, I was so shocked that I blurted out asking who the father was and he gave me one of his arsehole smirks and told me I was such a Saint or some such rot that it was a miracle and that  _I_ am the father.”

As intended, this made everyone laugh. Except Ginny, who was now reading the article and not paying attention. She gasped. “Harry! He's due on the same day that I am!”

Harry felt a chill run up his spine. “That's strange, but just a coincidence.”

Ginny pierced him with her canny gaze. “Is it though? What if that nameless stranger  _was_ him?”

Harry was so discombobulated that he didn't know what to say or do. So he fainted.

 

***

 

The day after the interview appeared in the Prophet, Draco was inundated with owls from people asking to know the real story, and who is actually the other father, plus suggestions for possible names, most of which were serious suggestions like: “William Thomas, after my grandfather, who was a brilliant man,” but a few were clearly malicious. One man hilariously suggested that Draco name his son: “Demon spawn from the buggering sphincter of hell!”

In any case, he decided that he wasn't likely to get any  _serious_ owls about his job, and that it was even possible that the clients he was currently working for would suggest withdrawing themselves as his clients until the mild scandal died down. So, he decided to be proactive. He went to the senior partners in the investing division and explained that he'd be starting his parental leave early. Despite their very real appreciation for the work he did, they agreed that it might be prudent for him to lay low for a while.

So, Draco went home and threw himself into the task of preparing his suite for an infant.

 

***

 

To Draco's surprise and concern, his son was born nearly an entire month early – on December 12 th . When labor started, Draco really thought that one or possibly both of them were dying. Thank Merlin and Salazar that his house elf was able to fetch his Healer with all due haste.

The next morning, he sent a quick note to the Daily Prophet for them to publish that said:  _Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy born the 12_ _th_ _of December at 6:05 PM. Both baby and father in good health but resting._

It was a full six months before Draco felt ready to risk going out into public and bringing his son with him.

 

***

 

Harry spotted Draco strolling down Diagon Alley. He looked like he was purposely trying to look relaxed to cover his tension, but it was clear by the way he was hyper vigilant about everything that the man fully expected an attack at some point. Harry kissed his wife on the cheek.

“Will you be alright on you own for a few minutes?”

“Sure, why?” She wondered curiously.

“Malfoy looks like he might need a bodyguard,” Harry informed her with a shrug.

Ginny smirked at him. “You mean  _you_ would like an opportunity to ask him if it's true.”

Harry sighed in defeat. “Maybe...” He hadn't been able to talk to Draco at all since their startling possible revelation since the Slytherin was never out of his well-warded Manor, and Harry hadn't thought he'd be allowed in for a chat if he just showed up uninvited.

Ginny kissed him. “Go on. Just... try not to pick a fight until  _after_ he answers the question.”

Harry was half ready to spit fire and half extremely relieved for such an excellent opportunity when he got closer to Draco and saw a bitter old witch preparing to hex him in the back.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried out, catching the witch's wand when it flew out of her hand.

“What do you think you're – Harry Potter!” The witch gasped in recognition in the middle of her angry demand when she spun around and saw him.

“You're lucky I'm off duty and would rather sit on an active volcano than go in and fill out paperwork at the moment,” Harry informed her. He jerked his thumb in an order to walk away. “Go on and I'll have your wand owled to you, just know that I'm going to put a tracking spell on it so that if you _actually_ hex someone with it, it'll be automatically recorded by the DMLE and an Auror will be dispatched to pick you up.”

Grumbling and looking like she sincerely wished she could punch Harry in the face, she trudged away. “Why protect a Death Eater? He and his kind tortured my daughter to death... just because she was a squib...”

Harry knew that she didn't really expect an answer and let her walk away without comment. Then he turned to find Draco watching him warily.

“ _Thanks_...” Draco ground out, sounding like it literally hurt to say that word.

Harry simply nodded. “No problem. Let me walk with you for a bit. That'll at least prevent anyone else from trying anything, and maybe make it clear that they shouldn't even think about it when you're alone.

Draco didn't realize it, but he was unconsciously stroking his son's extremely soft and curly nest of wild black hair as he thought this over. Scorpius was in a carrier on his chest so that Draco could have a hand on his wand at all times. After a moment, he nodded.

“Alright Potter. I'm headed to my tailor to buy an all new wardrobe for my birthday – now that I'm in a better shape again.”

Harry nodded in understanding and followed along as Draco walked. “Isn't your birthday next month?”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed. “But it takes a little time for the tailor to do his job, so, if I buy the clothes now, they'll be ready in plenty of time for my birthday.”

“Plan to go anywhere?” Harry wondered.

Draco shrugged. “Probably out to dinner with Pansy and Blaise.”

“Is he really mine?” Harry asked rather abruptly, startling Draco.

“Er...”

“You told me to figure out how it was possible, and I did,” Harry added softly, looking at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh really?” Draco drawled in amusement. “Then pray tell.”

“That man I asked about, that I thought looked remarkably like you, like a cousin would. I think that was _you_ glamoured to look different enough that you could go out and pull without anyone harassing you for who you are. It's smart actually. You should probably actually do that whenever you're just going out in public with your son. Besides, I notice he has my hair.”

Draco sighed. “And eyes...” he whispered, but then shook his head. “Think whatever you like, but this is  _my_ son and no one else's.”

“Malfoy...” Harry let out a suddenly weary sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I'm not trying to take him from you – or anything like that. It's just that if it's true, I'd like to be a part of his life. Send birthday presents. Take him on outings. Let him grow up knowing his brothers. Things like that.”

Draco stopped without planning to and gave Harry a suspicious look. Then he reached out and opened the door to the tailor's shop, deciding that this sort of conversation was better off in a place where they could cast silencing charms and be at least a little assured of privacy. Once they were in seclusion (the tailor intuitively understanding that this wasn't the best time to welcome them to his shop), Draco cast a silencing charm and stared Harry down, not willing to admit to anything just yet.

Harry twisted his lips side to side before sighing. “You haven't denied it, so that's basically a Slytherin's admission of the truth.”

Draco snorted. “ _No_ ... That's a  _Gryffindor's_ admission of the truth. A Slytherin would be so vague and evasive while never actually lying that it would be difficult to discern what was real and what was implied. OR a Slytherin would be so dramatic and over the top while telling the truth, that it  _sounded_ like a lie.”

Harry chuckled, remembering a few occasions in which Draco had done just that. Like First Year, when he claimed to know how to ride a broom and exaggerated it so much that it sounded like sheer fantasy – but was actually the truth. He frowned in thought.

“That's exactly what you did when you said I was the father...”

Draco sighed. “Look, I don't know what you want.”

“I just told you! I just want to be part of his life!”

Draco shook his head in disbelief. “And that's it?”

“That's it!” Harry vowed, even holding up his right hand in an unconscious gesture to reinforce the vow.

“And... you're not... angry...?” Draco questioned skeptically.

“Well I was!” Harry cried out in frustration. “When Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and I were talking it over and we came to the conclusion that it all fit – that all the signs were there... I was _furious!_ I raged for at least two days demanding to know how _you_ could do this to _me_ – OF ALL PEOPLE!!!” He exhaled to get rid of his lingering anger. “But then Ginny pointed out that _you_ didn't do anything. You didn't ask and you didn't even flirt with us. You simply sat down, looked around, and ordered a glass of wine. It was _us_ who took a fancy to you and invited you home. Even then, you didn't truly lie, because you actually _told_ us that your mission for the night was to bottom, which would be required in order to get pregnant.”

He trailed off with a shrug. Then continued. “Which means that you were just doing what you needed to in order to accomplish your goals, and it wasn't  _me_ that you were actively trying to screw over. So... I calmed down, I suppose. And I've had a lot of time to think about it since then. I still have no earthly idea  _why_ you wanted to have a child all by yourself, but that's not the important part. The important part is that you  _don't have to_ do it alone. I can help.”

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. “Saint Potter at it again. Look, I'm not going to confirm or deny your suspicion because there's nothing to gain either way. I made a decision to have a child and now I have a son. He's exactly what was missing in my life and now I'm happy. I  _don't need_ help. So... thank you for stopping that witch and walking with me to this shop, but I'll thank you to leave now and let me get on with my shopping.”

Harry took his hand and held it for a moment while looking unbearably earnest. “Please just... just think about it...”

Draco looked away and made no promises. Harry took advantage of this by caressing Scorpius' hair with a single finger – as if afraid to spook him. Scorpius, who had been sucking on a pacifier and staring at his hand while opening and closing it – as if trying to figure out how that worked in intricate detail – looked up at Harry curiously.

Harry gasped. Even as a baby of just six months old, Scorpius looked very much like Draco – bone structure, face shape, paleness of his skin, things like that – but in addition to his thin and wispy but wildly curly black hair, he had green eyes. This felt like a punch to the gut! There was almost  _no way_ that this wasn't his son!

Draco sighed and turned so that Harry couldn't quite see Scorpius anymore, but he didn't say anything. Harry, still reeling from such a profound revelation, managed to pull himself together just enough to clear his throat and say: “You know... You're not going to be able to deny it forever.  _Maybe_ until he's old enough to go to Hogwarts, but then he's going to see Albus and James, and he's going to wonder why they look so much like him. Even if he doesn't figure it out for himself, the vultures at the Daily Prophet probably will, and  _they'll_ make sure that  _everyone_ knows what they think – in the most painful way possible.”

Draco stiffened but still didn't say anything.

“Is what I'm offering really so bad? Are you really so stubborn and selfish that you can't _share_ him a couple of days a month?” Harry demanded, trying hard but failing to control his rising temper.

Draco hung his head and asked in a voice just barely louder than a whisper. “Why is it selfish to want something of my very own?”

Harry had to take a deep breath and back off before he succumbed to the urge to hex Draco – which would  _definitely_ not help the situation at all. Besides, he had a point. He wasn't trying to  _take_ a child from Harry and keep it as his own. He was simply raising the baby that he'd secretly created without asking for anything.

“Just think about it. _Please!_ ”

Draco shrugged and Harry had to take this for acceptance. He left before he could push things further and start that fight he didn't really want to have – and yet  _needed_ to have. 

 

That night, Draco sat on his bed after Scorpius had gone to sleep and flung his head into his hands. He'd been unable to think about anything other than Harry's words all day long and they were starting to drive him spare! The worst part of all was that Harry was right... There simply wasn't another wizard with black hair and green eyes, and even if there were, everyone who ever saw Scorpius would automatically assume that he was the son of the most famous black haired green eyed wizard in existence. Thus...

Draco wasn't going to be able to hide the truth forever.

With a groan of sheer reluctance, Draco summoned a piece of official Malfoy stationary and a gorgeous leucistic peacock feather quill. Bracing himself as if expecting to be hit by a hurricane, he wrote:

_Potter,_

_Fine... you can have visitation twice a month._

_D.M._

 

Harry finished reading the extremely short note and looked up at his wife with watery eyes. She took the note from him and read it. Then she sighed.

“Well... it's a start.”

“It is,” Harry agreed, inexplicably grateful that Draco had seen reason. With a deep breath and a sigh of relief, he mentally vowed to do whatever it took to form and maintain a bond with this son – and treat him the same as he would James and Albus. With love. Despite who his other father was.

It was definitely a start.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you've read to the end, you saw that I nearly failed my challenge to NOT have Drarry, lol. I don't plan to continue this, but I imagine that after Harry and Draco work together for a while to coparent, their natural feelings take over and this would actually end with GASP! A triad relationship between Harry, Ginny, and Draco. Or at the very least, an arrangement that they all play around together when they're in the mood :-)


End file.
